The Ravenclaw Nine || BTS Harry Potter AU

Chapter 6

Aviela's Point of View

Eight-Year-Old Boy Dies; Cause Presumed Suicide

That was what the Muggle newspapers said every time an attack like this occurred. They didn't understand why the corpse had a distinctly magical imprint, so they consulted eyewitnesses, but by then the Ministry had obliviated everyone within a mile radius of the scene.

Everyone except for Aviela Bianchi.

Wizards were left to suffer the grief of their losses.

Aviela's eyes drooped with fatigue as she shuffled down the street, each step heavier than the last. The cement was still and stiff, but she felt like it was sucking her down to its depths. Good – death would be merciful.

She once viewed her house as a peaceful place. The sun always shone on its glistening exterior at the perfect time, and while the bright orange shutters were eccentric, they marked a beacon of warmth. Now, unless her eyes were playing tricks on her, the disconsolate house was bathed in shadows. The shutters had faded to a dull hue, and they creaked with every gust of wind. When she entered the dimly-lit home, her family plastered smiles onto their faces, feigning joy amidst their sorrow.

"Aviela, mia cara! It's so good to see you," her mother exclaimed, rushing from the kitchen to embrace her daughter tightly. Aviela couldn't reciprocate the warm gesture.

"Ah, Aviela, your mother is cooking something delicious, wouldn't you say? Doesn't it smell like lasagna? Your favorite meal?" her father prodded her. Aviela stared at him with blank, apathetic eyes before dragging her feet up the stairs.

The window on the far end of her room looked out to a stunning vista of the Italian countryside, but she didn't pay it any mind. Rather, she slid into the tight, enclosed space of her closet and curled into a ball. Feeling the texture of the rough walls pressing into her helped her cope with her sadness, reminding her that this was not a nightmare but a real obstacle that she must conquer. She buried her head in her knees and let out a shaky sob.

That boy in the papers. He should have been meaningless to her. His death should have meant nothing. Why did he have to be her brother? Why did they have to target her brother?

Matteo Bianchi should have had the time of his life visiting London. His friends tried to console Aviela by telling her that he was smiling and laughing mere minutes before he was taken, but nothing could comfort her. The damage had been done.

A light knock sounded against her door, but she was crying too hard to lift her head. Please don't come in. Please don't come in... and, he came in. The door creaked open, and cautious footsteps sent vibrations echoing through the wooden floor.

"Aviela?" her eldest brother asked gently.

Aviela sniffled, betraying her location. The tall boy glanced from her tiny form to the even narrower space opposite her and settled for leaning against the closet door.

"I would ask how you are doing, but that seems like a stupid question."

She avoided his gaze and focused on a small dent in the wall, rubbing her finger across the imperfection absentmindedly.

"Do you want to talk?"

She shook her head.

"Well, I will talk to you if that's all right." A shaky sigh sounded from above, and Aviela glanced up, surprised to see a single tear slip out of her brother's eye. Aching with compassion, she rose to her feet and wrapped her arms tightly around his torso. In the midst of her sorrow, she had forgotten that others were grieving as well.

"I just can't believe he is gone," she said, speaking the first words since her brother's murder.

He held her tighter. "I know."

"It feels weird to come home without immediately being bombarded by a small blur running through the house. It's wrong to wake up by natural means and not because a rubber ball has been thrown at my face."

"Amen to that," he said with a chuckle.

"What am I supposed to do, Namjoon?" she asked, pulling back to look straight into his dark brown eyes, which glistened with unshed tears.

"Well, there is only one thing we can do – move on." When Aviela immediately began to protest, he bent down so that their eyes were level and touched her chin gently. "I say 'move on', but never forget the beautiful memories you made together. You will find those are worth more than all the wealth in the world."

Aviela's lip quivered. "I want to get revenge."

Namjoon frowned at her un-Aviela-like behavior but quickly recovered, intrigued by this new, vengeful side to his sister. "The best method of revenge is knowledge. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I think so."

He straightened and tucked his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight from the balls of his feet to his heels, back and forth. He sucked his lower lip into his teeth and gnawed on it, seemingly struggling with an internal conflict. After a few moments, he glanced down at his sister and sighed.

"I will talk to our parents, okay? We will see what they say."

"About what?" Aviela asked, but he had already turned away from her. "Wait, Joonie, about what?"

"I can't make any promises, but your life will change if they agree."

"Agree to what? How will my life change?"

"Well, you may need to respond to that letter you got in the mail a few days ago."

"What letter?" His hand twitched by his pocket, and Aviela raised an eyebrow. "You have been carrying it in your pocket?"

"Well, it is an important letter."

"Who is it from?"

"A school."

"A... what?"

He sighed and pulled the slightly crumpled letter from the pocket of his pants. "Here – just read it for yourself."

Before her fingers could fully clasp around it, Namjoon darted out of her room, and the letter fluttered to the floor. She stooped down and picked it up, noting the worn edges of the envelope. The ink was slightly smeared from spending days in her brother's pocket, but she could still read the lettering.

"Miss A. Bianchi

The House Over the Hill"

Her heart began to pound in her chest as she turned the envelope over and examined the crimson stamp imprinted on the back. She recognized the seal instantly and tore the letter from its casing, her fingers shaking with anticipation.

The first sentence was stated very clearly, but she had to read it a few times before the weight of the words truly dawned on her.

"Dear Miss Bianchi,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

She let out a shrillsqueal and her knees buckled underneath her. Her head hit the floor, and hervision swirled into absolute darkness.

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